BEHIND CLOSED DOORS

Art by MOrtiz. For more, follow IG: _miiart_

“So, now that we’re alone…”

She turned towards me, a puzzled smile on her lips.

“Huh?”

The number on the electronic panel of the elevator changed to 2 and I knew I had roughly 45 seconds before we reached her floor.

“I just wanted to tell you just how much you mean to me.” I said.

“You mean a lot to me too.”

“Yeah, but you don’t mean it the way I do. You mean it in the you-are-my-ever-reliable-buddy-the-funny-guy-from-the-office-who-I-will-never-be-attracted-to way.  I mean it in the why-can’t-you-see-me-for-the-wonderful-guy-that-I-am-and-I-will-spend-my-life-making-you-happy way?”

ALL TALK

Art by MOrtiz. More art at IG: _miiart_

It was time.

In about 10 seconds, she’s going to come through those doors and take a quick look around, like she was ashamed of what she’s about to do. And then, seeing just the normal crowd minding their own business, she’s going to walk quickly towards me.

She’ll lean forward, keeping her voice in a low whisper, speaking slowly but urgently. Most of the time, I find myself leaning forward too, to catch her every word, hear every lilt in her voice, feel her very breath wrapped around her secrets.